One Day

When all the glass in all the world
is ground by

All the Oceans

to be sand, again,
there will arise a glass blower

Who'll melt the Sand

and blow new glass - just like it was

There is a word I'd like to share with you

or two, if time permits.

I used to drive the dreary

streets down where the slaughterhouses are

where the smell

of dread and blood and sweat and fear of the inevitable

mingles with the sweet

sultry air of summer evenings and penetrates the bars

That separate

the living from those who are about to die

Are you ready to continue your quest?

Insert Coin